


Do not, Under any circumstances, Awaken the Kraken

by coconutcranberries (orphan_account)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Derek and the kraken are friends, Derek is a Good Alpha, Fluff and Humor, Multi, Pack Bonding, Pack Feels, There is a kraken, barbeques
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 02:54:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2175435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/coconutcranberries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek knows he shouldn't have left Stiles in charge of the barbeque. </p><p>But hey, at least they have something to appease the Kraken with. Apparently, man-eating monsters of the deep (otherwise known as Derek's old friends) enjoy munching on charred burgers. </p><p>Who knew?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do not, Under any circumstances, Awaken the Kraken

**Author's Note:**

> Hey People of Earth! This is a follow on from Jackson Von Treebeard, but you don't have to read that! This is just a bit of fun :) Kickasscookieeater is, once again, my muse. The Kraken was her idea, I just gave it life, or something else as equally as poetic! 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! And thank you so much for all the comments and kudos on all my other work :) Love y'all, feel free to respond or something :)

Derek thoroughly regrets every moment in his life that has led to this one. He lets his betas know this by putting his head down on the counter and refusing to lend a hand. They don’t notice, or if they do, they simply ignore it, which is par for course at this point. 

Isaac practically falls down the stairs in the centre of Derek’s apartment, scrambles to a stop at the bottom and does a mad flail in an effort to look casual that reminds Derek of Stiles. Then again, a lot of things remind Derek of Stiles. 

”Got it!” Isaac shouts, one hand held aloft in victory. He skids breathlessly over to where Erica and Boyd are arranging a tower of picnic baskets next to the second hand couch. “It was in the bathroom.” 

“Why was the fish slice in the bathroom?” Erica hisses. She snatches the metal spatula away from Isaac and stuffs it in the top basket. The whole tower wobbles precariously as she snaps the lid shut. Derek has a strong urge to pull out the bottom basket and see what happens.

It will be just like giant jenga, only with more bloodshed. 

“Don’t ask me.” Isaac says defensively, crossing his arms. “I only live here half the time. I didn’t put it there.” 

Simultaneously, all three of them turn to stare at Derek, who doesn’t bother lifting his head. 

“My apologies,” He says, deadpan. “I mistook it for a backscratcher.” 

Erica sticks her tongue out and Isaac ignores him, goes to check the coolers littering Derek’s living room. Boyd grins at Derek, and Derek smirks back, abruptly reminded of why Boyd is his favourite. 

“Hurry up, Derek.” Erica huffs, interrupting his thoughts. “We’re late, and Lydia’s been texting me every two minutes to say that Stiles and Scott are being idiots.” 

“Nothing new then.” Boyd adds, hefting a couple of coolers and three baskets up into his arms. Derek feels a surge of pride as Boyd carries it all easily out of the door. Erica stares appreciatively after him. 

“Put your eyes back in your head.” Isaac tells her, ducking a punch to the shoulder. “You’re the one complaining that we have to leave.” 

“We do have to leave,” Erica calls after him, as Isaac picks up the remaining coolers and jogs after Boyd. “Just as soon as Derek gets dressed.” 

Derek grumbles something against the counter. “I don’t see why I have to be there.” 

“Because you’re the alpha?” She snarks, tossing her hair over her shoulder in a move she picked up from either Lydia or the L’Oreal advert. “Now get dressed.” 

She leaves the biggest basket behind for him to carry. 

“Good luck getting all of that shit into the Camaro!” Derek shouts after them, stomping into the bedroom to change into his jeans. 

He snickers, listens to the cacophony of swear words that resonate up from the driveway. It’s nice to be part of a pack again. 

 

 

“You can all help carry this.” Derek greets the rest of the pack, as he pulls up beside the Jeep and Jackson’s car. They’re parked at the edge of the preserve, waiting impatiently. Derek’s eyes immediately go to Stiles, who’s hanging off the roof of his Jeep, grinning impishly at Scott and dangling red vines in his face. Scott pops up from the other side of the car with a grimace. 

“Thank God,” Lydia says as they step out of the car. “I’m fed up of listening to this lot complaining.” She has her arm looped through Allison’s and her face is twisted with exasperation and fondness. Allison looks a little unsure, but she smiles hesitantly at them anyway. Derek still isn’t quite comfortable around the girl, but he understands more than anyone what grief can do to you, even if it’s definitely no excuse. 

“You’re the one who’s been complaining.” Jackson snorts, stalking away from them all. His sunglasses are perched obnoxiously on his nose, and Stiles mimes strangling him as Jackson disappears into the trees. Lydia ignores him. 

“It took you long enough,” Lydia continues, raising an eyebrow. 

“Derek was behaving like a five year old.” Erica explains dismissively, throwing Derek a wink. Derek bares his teeth back. 

Derek hands the girls a couple of coolers each from the passenger seat, and they take off after Jackson. He reaches the trunk just as Stiles pushes it up, and hides a grin at their expressions. Scott lets out a low whistle. 

“Jesus Christ.” Stiles says, observing the piles of baskets and blankets crammed into the trunk. 

“He’s probably in there somewhere.” Derek agrees with a sigh. 

Stiles snorts with laughter, nodding. “Yeah, dude, there’s enough in here to feed an army. How many people did you invite to this thing?” 

“Well we are werewolves,” Scott points out. “And this is a barbeque.” 

“How did you even get all of this in here?” Stiles asks, as he struggles to heave out the nearest basket. Boyd rolls his eyes and plucks it out of Stiles hands. 

“I play a lot of Tetris.” Boyd deadpans, before filling his arms and loping off in the direction of the pack. 

They get the rest of it to the clearing easily, although Stiles is too busy chewing his sweets to be much use. 

“The way I see it,” Stiles says around a mouthful. “You’ve all got werewolf, supernatural induced muscles, whereas I am just a scrawny human.” 

Derek interrupts him before Stiles can continue, hoisting his baskets a bit higher. “You said just last week that being human doesn’t mean we can exclude you from pack things.  
You said you had to be treated equally.” Derek quirks an eyebrow as Isaac snickers.

“Yes, but not today.” Stiles says hastily, walking a bit quicker. “Today is a one-off. And my hands are tragically broken.” 

Derek can’t quite hide his smile. 

Werewolves, as a general rule, are restless creatures. Teenagers, as it happens, are even more so. 

“Whose idea was it to have a barbeque?” Stiles asks helplessly. Derek shrugs, and they both watch as Isaac soars through the air in front of them, landing with a thwump in a pile of leaves. Erica prowls towards him, and Derek clears his throat loudly, lets just enough red seep into his eyes that Erica stops in her tracks. 

She huffs and stalks away, to where the rest of the group are settling down on some blankets. Isaac throws him a grateful look, before catching himself and scrambling upright. 

“You’re like the werewolf whisperer.” Stiles says, mock-reverently. He tips his head back to grin at Derek, then pokes at his arms until Derek backs away from the barbeque. “You were looking at this like you wanted to throw it in that lake. It’s not from Ikea, Derek, calm down, you just have to turn it on.” 

“We bought a coffee table from Ikea.” Derek offers with a grimace. “That was an experience.” 

Stiles barks a laugh, sets up the barbeque with a kind of practiced ease. “I definitely want to hear that story.”

“No you don’t.” Derek assures him. “How do you know how to do this?” He gestures at the burgers that Stiles is now sliding onto the barbeque. The scent of charcoal is strong, and Derek wrinkles his nose but doesn’t move away. 

“It’s literally the only kind of cooking I can do. My Dad and I host a summer barbeque for all the officers at the station, and he puts me in charge of the food.” 

“You need one of those aprons,” Scott pipes up, appearing out of nowhere and leaning over Stiles’ shoulder to sniff at the food. He recoils at the smell of charcoal, and Derek smirks. “The ones that say ‘license to grill’ or something.” 

“I’ll order you one.” Derek grins, before something catches his eye. 

They picked a pretty empty area to set up camp, and apart from a few trees, the only other thing in the clearing is small lake, which is more of a pond than anything. The lake is rippling. 

Derek steps around Scott and Stiles, frown fixed to his face. He raises his voice to catch the attention of the pack, who so far haven’t noticed anything unusual. “Did any of you idiots throw something in the water?” 

There’s a mild chorus of ‘hey’ in protest before everyone gets a good look at the lake. The water is bubbling now, crackling and fizzing with energy. Derek can’t see under the surface; the water is murky and dark. 

“Stay back.” He warns them, as everyone gets uneasily to their feet. “There could be something hiding underneath there.” 

“No shit.” Jackson says, but his voice is a little shaky. Lydia takes a step closer to him, and Allison moves to stand in front of them, her hands clasped around several throwing knives. Derek doesn’t even want to know where she hid them. 

“Calm down.” Scott tells them, holding up his hands. Derek glances around to see Stiles clutching a pair of tongs in front of him, and despite the tense moment, Derek wants to laugh. 

Something bursts out of the lake with a roar, and a wave of water crashes over them all. Derek turns his back to shield his face from the spray, and then just as quickly flits around to face the threat. He snarls threateningly at the thing bobbing just above the water line, his fangs muffling his growl. 

The thing bares a slight resemblance to an octopus. 

“Oh My God.” Stiles says faintly. 

The octopus warbles, a thick, grating sound that sets Derek’s teeth on edge. It stares unblinkingly at each of them in turn, before letting loose another angry roar. Several tentacles slap the surface of the lake with a splash, and the roar trails off into a rumble. 

A memory tugs at the back of Derek’s mind, and he straightens up from his defensive stance in surprise. 

_“What the hell is that supposed to be?” Laura demands with a distasteful glare. Laura is only just nine, and yet Dad says she’s already mastered the art of being a typical teenage girl._

_“It’s a kraken.” Talia says sharply, but her smile is fond, if a little exasperated. Derek steps a little bit closer to the water, and the kraken finally blinks. “It lives in this lake, has done for centuries. It’s under our protection. Be nice,” She adds warningly, but Derek knows it’s not for him. He might only be six, but he’s smart, and he knows you have to treat creatures nicely. He’s definitely smarter than Laura, anyway._

_“I have to talk to it?” Laura takes a step back in horror, looking disgusted. Derek rolls his eyes and pads closer, crouching down near the edge of the lake._

_“Hello.” He waves awkwardly at the kraken, and then nearly topples backwards in alarm when the thing swims a bit closer. “I’m Derek, and that’s Laura, but she’s stupid so you don’t have to talk to her.”_

_Laura squawks in protest, and his mother’s rich laughter fills the air. The kraken doesn’t say anything, but he regards Derek with a spark of interest._

_“Are you shy too?” Derek blurts out. He hates being shy. There’s nothing wrong with being quiet, or enjoying video games and books over people, but being shy is awful. How are you supposed to make friends if you can’t talk to anyone?_

_“Krakens age differently to other supernatural creatures.” Talia informs them. Laura is sulkily kicking at leaves, but she tilts her head to listen carefully anyway. “Most water-creatures do. They age slowly, Krakens age even more slowly. This one is about your age, Derek.” She smiles warmly at her son and Derek smiles brightly, eagerly facing the kraken again._

_“You’re six too?” Derek asks, trailing one hand over the water. The tip of a tentacle swims lazily towards his tiny fingers. It looks slimy, but Derek carefully doesn’t shudder._

_“It can’t talk back.” Laura scoffs, hands on her hips._

_“Actually, it can.” Talia corrects her, amused. “But only to a certain few, and only with contact. Krakens are very fussy over whom they talk to, and they won’t share their secrets with just anybody.”_

_The tentacle curls over Derek’s thumb, and he squeaks in surprise._

_“Hello, Derek.” The sound is in his head._

_“He’s talking!” Derek shouts excitedly, beaming at his Alpha. Talia smiles back delightedly._

_The Kraken flinches, and the tentacle starts to slip away, but Derek grasps it, apologising._

_“Sorry.” He keeps his voice low, and the Kraken seems to relax. “Do you not like noise?”_

_The Kraken shakes its massive head, black scaly skin rippling against the water. “No, I prefer to keep things quiet. I sleep a lot, you see.”_

_Derek nods solemnly, understanding. “I see. That’s okay. We’ll leave you to nap then.”_

_The kraken blinks once at him, squeezes his hand, and then sinks below the surface, leaving nothing but a smooth, still lake. Derek creeps backwards, holds his fingers to his lips and takes his mum’s hand to drag her away. Laura stomps after them, stepping on crunchy leaves and twigs just to annoy him, Derek is sure. Laura always tries to annoy him on purpose._

_“What did he say, Derek?” Talia says lightly. She tugs Laura forward, cards a hand through her hair as they walk together._

_“He’s like Dad, kind of.”_

_“Really?” Talia says, and she sounds like she wants to laugh. Derek frowns._

_“Yeah. He’s nice and friendly, normally, but he likes to sleep a lot and if you wake him up, he gets angry and wants to growl at everyone.”_

_Laura giggles, and Talia does not stop laughing until they get home. Derek doesn’t know why, but he doesn’t care, because he made a new friend today. And he knows he’s going to get extra ice cream for dessert tonight, because Mum always gives them extra ice cream when she’s proud of them. And she is, proud of Derek._

Derek blinks back into the present, and swipes a hand over his face, trying to push back that memory. Surprisingly, it’s not as painful as it normally is, to think of his family. Maybe it has something to do with the way his pack are grouped around him, each of them shuffling into each other. Maybe it’s something to do with the way that he can feel Stiles at his back, tongs pressed sharply into his side. 

The Kraken isn’t blinking, but it is staring at Derek, with that same spark of interest. 

“What is it?” Lydia finally snaps, breaking the silence. Derek waves his hands to quiet her. 

“It looks like a miniature version of that monster from Lord of the Rings.” Stiles says weakly. 

“That one where they nearly got killed by orcs?” Scott frowns in confusion. 

“That happens, like, at least twenty times in each film Scott.” Stiles hisses. 

“I think he was referring to the lake monster that picks Frodo up and tries to eat him.” Isaac adds helpfully. 

“Oh,” Scott says. “Which film is that again?” Stiles makes a pained sound under his breath. 

“The Fellowship of the Ring.” Allison says confidently, although her eyes don’t stray from the kraken. 

“Shut up,” Derek hisses. “All of you, just be quiet.” 

There’s a beat of blissful silence, before Erica lets out a low whistle. “Someone’s touchy.” 

The whistle is apparently the last straw for the kraken, and it roars again, sending more waves of water everywhere. Derek swears, manages to glare at Erica, and then sprints forward, skidding on his knees near the edge of the pond. He gets a mouthful of water for his trouble and spits it out, gagging at the taste. 

He can vaguely hear his pack scrambling around and shouting at each other, at him. He hears footsteps at one point, probably Stiles’ running towards him, before one of the wolves pulls him back. 

Derek grabs one of the tentacles. 

The Kraken stills, and zeroes in on Derek, who tries to look as much like an innocent, eight-year old boy as is possible for a 23 year old man with a bucket load of damage. 

_Please remember me_ , he thinks desperately. 

For a few seconds, there’s nothing but silence from everyone. His pack is quiet behind him, waiting with baited breath. 

_Come on_ , Derek thinks again. 

The Kraken curls its tentacle around Derek’s thumb, and Derek sighs in relief. 

_“It’s been a while, Derek Hale.”_ The Kraken swims closer, and its eyes are wide, sparking with fondness and interest again. _“I thought you might have forgotten me.”_

“I did, for a little bit.” Derek admits. He feels a bit ashamed of himself, but he thinks maybe the Kraken would forgive him if he knew everything that had happened over the past few years. “I went away for a while, but I’m back.” 

“What the hell?” Scott says aloud, behind him somewhere. 

The kraken tenses up, its gaze flicking over Derek’s shoulder. It blinks, and looks back to Derek. _“You bought a new pack with you.”_ It pauses, regards Derek shrewdly. _“A loud pack.”_

Derek coughs, shifts a little on the wet grass. The ground beneath him is sopping wet, and his jeans are soaked. “They can be a bit boisterous. Sorry about that.” 

“Seriously, what the hell is going on?” Stiles says, and Derek hears the tongs drop to the floor. 

The Kraken flinches away, lets out a guttural noise that trails off into a gurgle. 

“I’ll take them away.” Derek assures it. “They can get quite loud, but they’re teenagers.” 

_“Teenagers are quite annoying.”_ The Kraken pauses, thoughtful. _“Quite a few have disturbed my rest over the years, in fact, some even dared to throw litter into my lake.”_

Derek snorts, nodding, because yeah, that sounds about right. “Teenagers are a pain in the ass. I’m glad I’m not one anymore.”

Stiles makes an outraged noise behind him, and when Derek shifts around to look at them, the rest of the pack are stood with indignant, bemused expressions on their faces. 

Derek hides his laughter and turns around, faces the Kraken with a soft smile. 

“We will leave you in peace, and protect your location.” Derek promises it. “You don’t have to worry about being disturbed. You’re still under Hale Pack protection. It’s just a different Hale pack than it used to be.” 

_“Thank you, Derek.”_ The Kraken squeezes his hand, slowly sinks below the water. It blinks once at Derek, expression fond, before slipping out of view. 

Derek immediately turns to face the Pack, and presses a finger to his lips in warning. He staggers upright, knees stiff and clothes soaked from the tidal wave that attacked him earlier. He grimaces, then jogs to where Stiles and Scott are standing. He bends to pick up the tongs, which have fallen in the damp grass by Stiles’ feet. When he straightens up, he’s greeted with Stiles’ flushed face, slightly closer than before, whose light eyes are narrowed shrewdly. 

“We need to pack up, quickly.” Derek whispers, glancing behind him. 

“What, so that we don’t get eaten by your new best bud over there?” Scott says, still too loud. 

“Shut up,” Derek hisses. “Don’t say a word, just pack up now.” 

Stiles scoffs, crosses his arms. The rest of them look mutinous, but they grudgingly do as Derek says, wandering around sullenly and collecting everything together. Erica folds up the blankets viciously, as if they’ve threatened to smother her, and Isaac sulkily shoves their drinks back into the coolers with a put-upon air. 

Derek inhales sharply, then regrets it deeply. There’s a horrible stench of smoke and burning, and he winces. 

Stiles catches the wince, eyes narrowing even further. He sniffs a little, before his eyes widen in horror. He whips around so fast that Derek gets whiplash just from watching him and his eyes land on the barbeque, where black smoke is steadily pouring off the remains of their meal. 

“My burgers!” Stiles shrieks loudly, his hands flying out to the side as he windmills his way towards the barbeque. Derek closes his eyes in resignation as the Pack freezes and another thunderous roar echoes through the forest. 

He’s seriously had enough of this pack bonding shit. 

 

“To be completely honest, that wasn’t even half as bad as I expected it to be.” Stiles is saying, as they pack the remaining things into the car. The rest of the Pack have already left, gone to buy Chinese food from the nearest takeaway, rather than bother finding another place for the barbeque. 

Derek levels him with a look. “Do you go into these things expecting there to be a funeral at the end?” 

“You make it sound like war, Derek, we’re not ‘going into’ anything. It’s just the Pack hanging out!” 

“It feels like war sometimes.” Derek grumbles, shutting the trunk. 

“Oh, come on!” Stiles argues, rounding the car to the passenger door. “I fully expected us to end up in A&E by the end of this. I mean, you have to admit, us lot surrounded by sharp kitchen utensils and fire probably isn’t the best combination in the world. And yet, here we are, fully functional, not even a little disfigurement of maiming going on.” 

Derek snorts, can’t really help it, not when Stiles looks so proud of the fact that they’re actually all alive after what should have been a simple barbeque. “We burnt the food, and none of us have actually eaten anything. I had to feed charred burgers to the Kraken just to appease him.” 

“Yeah, what the hell was that about anyway?” Stiles demands, as they buckle up. “You acted like you know that thing.” 

Derek shrugs. “Met him when I was younger. He’s under Hale Protection. He isn’t fond of noise.” 

“And we were making noise.” Stiles concludes. “Which means he wasn’t fond of us.” 

“Well, he was fond of me.” Derek says lightly, a smirk descending on his face. 

“Yeah, yeah. Jesus, only you would find it great that you’re on close terms with a man-eating monster of the deep. And what was with all of the ‘teenagers suck, being old rocks’ stuff, anyway? Because fuck off, you are not that much older than us, Hale.” 

That startles a laugh out of Derek. “It was a bad idea though, you have to admit that.” 

“Well I don’t have to do anything,” Stiles drawls. “But I think you might actually be right, for once.” He winks, then grins wickedly. “I think you’ll like our next battle though; Scott wants us to go to the movies one night next week.”

“Erica already told me that I have to book the tickets.” Derek grumbles. “It was that, or she wanted all of us to go shopping, since apparently the loft still isn’t ‘homely’ enough.”

Stiles cracks up laughing, and then reels off a whole list of things they could buy that would look “perfect” in the apartment. Most of them are rude, but he lets Stiles’ babble carry them to the apartment, where he parks next to Stiles’ Jeep and the Porsche. Stiles stares out of the window with the air of someone examining an extremely important virus under a microscope. 

“I don’t see any scratches.” Stiles says firmly. He sits back, obviously satisfied with his examination. Derek stops with one hand on the door, and then raises an eyebrow, looking from the Jeep to Stiles and back again. 

“I think you need glasses.” Derek tells him, smirking. “That thing has more dents in it than I can count.” 

Stiles makes a face. “I said scratches, not dents. Anyway, I meant ones put there specifically by one Scott McCall, who has a habit of getting distracted and forgetting that the Jeep is a lot bigger than his Mum’s car.” 

“I thought you were supposed to be the more distracted one.” Derek grins, clambering out of the car. He leaves the trunk alone; he can’t be bothered to sort out all of the stuff now, not when there are traces of hot Chinese food on the air. 

“I think I might do, actually.” Stiles blurts out suddenly, as they climb the stairs. 

Derek pauses, glances behind him. Stiles’ brow is furrowed, and he looks thoughtful. “Might get distracted?”

“Hmm?” Stiles jolts out of his trance. “Oh, no, I already know that. I think I have it in writing actually, from about twelve different teachers and several therapists, so no. I think I might need glasses though.” 

“Really?” Derek stops in surprise. Stiles walks into him, lets out a small ‘oomph’ at the contact, then scurries past. 

“Yeah, it’s no big deal, I’ve just been having trouble making stuff out. It’s probably just eye strain, from too much research or something.” 

Derek instantly feels guilty. There haven’t been a lot of incidents lately for Stiles to research, but the fact remains that whenever Derek needs help with the more technological side of things, he usually goes to Stiles. He doesn’t want to think too hard about why that is; obviously, it’s just because Stiles is pretty smart. 

“Make an eye appointment.” Derek orders him gruffly, and Stiles rolls his eyes, but nods anyway. Satisfied, Derek pokes him in the side until Stiles makes a squawking sound, then races up the last flight of steps. He hears Stiles shout something below him, sprinting to reach him, and grins. 

When Stiles finally gets there, Derek is sat on the corner of the couch that he managed to commandeer for himself, with a box of rice and several spring rolls in his hand. Stiles gives him a look that promises revenge, but his mouth is curling up at the edges, and he smells happy. Derek sighs, content, and only needs to growl once during the entire evening, when Erica and Jackson start throwing bean sprouts at each other. 

Maybe he can get used to this pack bonding shit, as long as he doesn’t have to go shopping.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for making it to the end! As always, come find me on tumblr (same name) and thank you again!
> 
> Please feel free to leave comments, I love new reading material ;)


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